Trick of Fate
by i-nv-u50
Summary: HP/DM Slash! CH3!! Harry is depressed, and Lily is getting depressed just knowing he's upset. So, naturally, Lily and James go down to earth to try and cheer Harry up. How they do it comes as a surprise to everyone - themselves included.
1. Sometimes It Happens

Title: Trick of Fate  
Author: I_nv_u50  
Pairings: Harry/Draco  
Disclaimer: Alas, alack, I own nothing but the plot…  
Rating: PG13 because technically they haven't done anything wrong yet…  
Summary: Harry depressed, and Lily is getting depressed just knowing he's upset. So, naturally, Lily and James go down to earth to try and cheer Harry up. How they do it comes as a surprise to everyone - themselves included.  
Categories: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: I see stormy seas of slash ahead. If that floats your boat, go for it ^^  
Author's Notes: Good morning, good afternoon, good evening and good night!! … Now that's over, onto the slash!! .. New story this. I don't know what I was thinking, starting a new one now, but the others are going reasonably well (don't mention when times change, please) and this one wouldn't leave me alone (glares at Draco&Harry)  
  
Draco: (smugly) I don't have a clue what she's talking about.  
Harry: No indeed, why should we know?  
Draco&Harry: (exchange innocent looks)  
  
They're not fooling anyone. Anyway, read, enjoy, and please review!! ^^  
  
  
  
  
Lily sighed and readjusted her cloud so she could recline back more comfortably and settled back again, glancing idly around. It was very pretty here, drifting clouds that were waiting for someone to claim them, and claimed clouds floating about at varying speeds, all determined by the people - or thing - that rode them.  
She was bored, James was nowhere to be seen, and her one and only son appeared to be suffering a midlife crisis.  
Granted, he hadn't quite reached midlife yet, being only seventeen years old, but he was starting to look very depressed all the same. Lily didn't believe that the war was the only reason It might have been a big part of the reason, but it was far more than that that was troubling Harry.  
She watched him as often as she could, including herself in his life without his knowing, and she knew him as well as a mother could know a son. Or maybe a little more than was average, because she could see him when he and his friends thought they were perfectly alone.   
They were almost as wayward and mischievous as James and his friends used to be, but for Hermione. Hermione, although loosening up much more after becoming friends with the two, was still the most practical of the group, a good friend and well grounded.  
There was also another boy that intrigued Lily, a pale blonde, maybe a little older than Harry. She couldn't watch him, even though he and Harry got into fights to rival those of James and Sirius against Lucius and Severus. As Sirius and Severus were worst enemies, so had been Lucius and James, although theirs was a more silent battle, James letting out all his verbal comments for Snape and Snape alone.  
She couldn't watch the blonde boy that reminded her so much of Lucius, because all spirits who weren't ghosts had a very faint but tangible presence. They were there, and you couldn't mistake those kinds of auras no matter how hard you might try. She could safely watch Harry and his friends, because although Ron might have known what he was feeling somewhere in his mind, he couldn't be bothered with analyzing it when life was busy going on. It was his nature; he didn't really have any interest in that sort of thing just yet, if ever he did.   
And Hermione, had she recognized it, would know, but she didn't think about it frequently, only vaguely registering the feeling in an unimportant part of her mind, so it almost always got lost in the schoolwork.  
Harry felt it clearly, being not only a powerful wizard in his own right, but also because he was her blood relation and the one she died for. Thankfully though, he assumed it to be normal for all wizards and didn't talk about it, taking it for granted that all wizards felt it and were used to it.  
But Draco, the blonde boy, would know what he was feeling, and would know that it was rare, unusual, and who knew what he might do then.   
It wasn't really allowed for spirits to be known in the real World. It wasn't illegal for them to be there, because the Powers That Were knew very well how boring it could get for those spirits who didn't have a specific job to do, but they weren't supposed to be there.  
Lily sighed again and leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands, her eyes fixedly following her son as he lost track of the conversation and drifted off into his own world, his eyes bored, almost sad.  
A cloud zoomed past her, making her sit up at the speed, and laugh when she was confronted with warm hazel eyes.  
"Go away James, I'm busy."  
James pouted then grinned at her. "I could accuse you of voyeurism, you know."  
Lily gazed blandly at her husband. "I'm surprised you know such big words."  
James laughed, and looked down to see what had her attention so thoroughly. He had almost been planning to try out that new trick he had, but she had looked deeply engrossed in what she had been doing, and he had decided not to cause her wrath, hilarious as it was to watch.  
James' eyes beheld a mirror of himself, gazing off into the distance just as his mother was doing next to his father. The green eyes looked sad, but weren't, almost thoughtful. Moreover, they were bored.  
"Harry's bored."  
Lily made a noise in agreement. James switched his gaze to her, studying her. She also looked sad, but eve more bored. It was boring here, especially without Sirius and Remus to help him play pranks still. Fun wasn't fun if everyone always knew it was you. Of course, it was actually, but it made the punishments easier to bear if you had someone to banter back and forth with, and no one was quite equal to Sirius and Remus in that respect.  
Lily suddenly sat up straight, her eyes lighting up in a way that meant she had an idea. A well thought, planned idea, which were the worst types, in James' humble opinion. Plans were best spontaneous.  
"What's up, Lil?"  
The blazing green eyes caught and held his. "Let's go get our wings."  
James blinked at her, trying to see where the idea was going. "Uh huh. And the what?"  
"We go guard Harry."  
James nodded his head n a way that always made Lily scowl at him. "All right, then what?"  
Lily's scowl faltered as she thought. "I'm not so sure about that."  
James sighed, and spoke very slowly, deliberately trying to irritate his wife. She was too placid lately for her own good anyway. "Why would you want to get wings if we don't have a good reason. You know that's one of the requirements."  
Lily frowned and waved a hand outwards and down, towards Harry. "My son is depressed, James. I would like to go help him."  
James shook his head, the glint fading slightly in his eyes. "Lil, how many other people up here have children? Children who are sad, depressed, starving, whatever."  
Lily huffed at him. "Well, it's their problem that they didn't think of this before we did."  
James gazed at her in frank admiration. "So we're the test subjects?"  
Lily beamed at him proudly. "Yep."  
James nodded, the glint back in his eye, an almost predictable part of him plotting. "All right then. So we apply for wings. We get them in what, ten minutes?"  
"Helen said they were looking for more."  
"That's good…" James mumbled, "so we get our wings, then we apply for our applicant. Should they be in Hogwarts?"  
"Yes, I think so…" Lily mused, staring down again as Harry started out of his reverie and started laughing at something Ron had said.  
"Lil? You still here?"  
"Hm? Yea."  
"So we're all clear on that?"  
"Of course."  
James gave her an expressionless look. "You have no idea what I just said, do you?"  
"No," Lily admitted, "but let's go anyway. The faster we do this, the faster we can go help Harry."  
James snorted slightly, an unsubtle attempt at stifling laughter. When Lily glared at him, he shook his head helplessly. Let her find out. It would be more fun that way, and James was bored enough to seek amusement in the most dangerous places.  
  
  
Down below, Harry was getting ready for bed. His progress was somewhat detained by Seamus and Dean's comical antics, designed to have the whole dorm laughing uproariously before one of the girl prefects came in. It was plain and obvious that Ron and Dean, Gryffindor male prefects, could care less about the rules tonight. Harry had just won another quidditch match, and even though it was still somewhat expected now after seven years, they still had good celebrations.  
If only Harry's heart was more into it.  
He smiled absently at something Seamus said, and grinned when Ron made a snide remark in return, hearings words, but not listening, not absorbing them in.  
He eventually made it into his bed, gave a huge, not so fake yawn, and said goodnight to everyone. They quieted down a little in respect for the quidditch hero, but not enough for Harry to actually get to sleep.  
He eventually gave up, and sat up on his left elbow, leaving his right hand free to grip his wand. He spoke a few words, and swished his wand, and there was a silencing spell separating him from the rest of the dorm. He put his wand back down on the bedside table, and lay down with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling in the almost deafening silence.  
You never knew how quiet it was until you were alone, and the spell gave an illusion of solitude, making Harry feel completely alone.  
He rolled onto his side and stared at the blurry movements of the curtains around his bed, waving lazily with the movements of the boys on the other side. There was an extra light now; one of the girl prefects had opened the door. Harry could almost hear the jesting complaints of his fellow male Gryffindors, but Hermione, because it was obviously her, didn't really take no for an answer. She was a lot like Percy had been in his days at Hogwarts, but he had loosened up, and to be truthful, so had Hermione. She only reported a quarter of what she could have.  
Eventually the shapes and silhouettes he could see through the deep red curtains around his bed disappeared, and the light dimmed. Evidently Hermione had gotten her way, and they were all in bed and on their way to sleep. By all rights, he should have been as well.  
After a long wait, that might have been minutes, or hours, he grabbed his wand and muttered the counter spell before sliding his feet off the bed and pushing his glasses further up his nose from where they had slipped. After completing that motion, he just sat there, having no idea what he was going to do next.   
The curtains of the bed next to him rustled, and Ron's face, his red hair messily rumpled, poked through the divide. "All right there, Harry?"  
Harry stifled a yawn. "I'm fine Ron."  
Ron nodded, and disappeared for a second before opening his curtains again. "Hermione is going to kill both of us if you leave now Harry, it's three in the morning. Go back to sleep, would you?"  
The fight drained out of Harry. No wonder he was so tired. "All right Ron. Goodnight."  
"'Night Harry."  
Harry crawled back into bed, his body feeling much heavier than it should, and he mentally scolded it for feeling so burdensome. He lay on his back and took off his glasses to contemplate the dark, burnished wood blur that was the ceiling again.  
The feeling that someone was watching him returned, and although he ignored it like he always did, it comforted slightly, bringing some sort of happiness that he could not place. He truly did not wish to, for fear of losing it if he did manage to identify it.  
He drifted into sleep easily, surprisingly enough, and when he reached it, he didn't want to leave.  
It was one of those peaceful dreams, where everything you could possibly yearn for lay ready and willing at your feet by their own choice, not by his.  
Hermione was there, and Ron, and Sirius and Remus. His parents were there too, as they so often were, his mother smiling and happy, and his father, grinning and proud.   
A flash of silver caught his eye, and Harry frowned slightly outside his dream, his brows drawing closer. Who was that?  
But then it was gone, and his mother was stepping forward, holding her hands out to him in welcome and love, and he gladly stepped into them, returning the tight hug with all the strength he had in his arms. He missed her.  
He missed having parents, and lately, the burden had gotten so much heavier, almost too much to bear. He half-heartedly almost wanted to join them, but those moments were few and far between, and he was usually able to push the desire to some deep and dark place that he had and hid from the world.  
Lily's voice was soft and warm in his dream, and Harry strained his ears to catch her words, knowing instinctively that they were important, that they were best heard.  
"Harry… I'll see you soon…"  
After that, disappointingly, the dream dissipated, and Harry fell into a deep sleep, that held random flashes of silver, and carried a face he knew but could not remember.  
  
  
Up above, Lily gazed down lovingly at her son. He slept like James used to sleep, one fist so close to his mouth that he might be sucking his thumb but you knew he wasn't. He looked younger than ever without his glasses on, and she smiled wistfully.  
"Hang on, Harry. We'll help you sort this out." 


	2. Sometimes Life Is Weird

Title: Trick of Fate

Author: I_nv_u50

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Disclaimer: Hm. I might be able to claim owning the plot, but not really much anything else. (figure that one out! :D)

Rating: Still PG13. I think my muses are on a sensual strike. 

Summary: Harry depressed, and Lily is getting depressed just knowing he's upset. So, naturally, Lily and James go down to earth to try and cheer Harry up. How they do it comes as a surprise to everyone – themselves included.

Categories: Romance, Humor

Warnings: Just your average slash story.

Author's Notes: It's about time O.o; Of course, I should probably consider updating my other stories as well, but that should come by the very latest on Sunday… yes, this Sunday. Yes, I know I'm going to end up frantically writing then ignoring the deadline, but it's nice to pretend, isn't it?

_Draco: Psh. She gets to pretend and live in her idealistic world while we have to work. Where's the fairness in that?_

_Harry: (whispers) At least we live in the real world. We can say we have a life and mean it!_

_I_nv_u50: Oh, that's harsh._

Ignore them. They're doing double labor for this, so the other stories probably will get updated by Sunday. Anyway, enjoy, and please review!! ^^

It was almost a good doodle. Of course, he would never be as good as Dean was at drawing, but at least he tried. Harry stared at it closer, looking for a hint of something; something he wasn't even sure was in there.

It was a messy sketch of a bloody battle scene that took up nearly a quarter of the parchment Harry had in front of him. Scrawled over the rest of the parchment haphazardly were notes for History of Magic. Professor Binns was still as boring as ever, and Harry had lost whatever enthusiasm he might have had for the great battle of 1453 after about ten minutes. 

Even Ron, who had almost been looking forward to this lesson, had dozed off within five minutes of the ghost's opening words to the class. Hermione was busy, frantically writing things down that Harry was sure weren't notes, but he wasn't positive.

Ah. There it was. Harry wasn't entirely sure on the reasons he had put it in, but there was a faint figure of a woman in the sketch, wearing what was obviously battle armor. Harry didn't know why he just knew she was a woman, but he accepted it as it was. He didn't really care anymore, not now that he had found the thing he had been looking for.

Instead, he turned his attention to the window. The monotonous voice droned on, and Harry slowly began to daydream about quidditch, and the end of the period.

Lily was complaining loudly. She sometimes had a tendency to do that, for reasons that were occasionally beyond James, but he had always assumed it was a girl thing.

On this though, she had his complete support. It went beyond decency to place guardian angels with the son of a worst enemy of one of those guardian angels.

If it hadn't been Michael who had given them the applicant, James would have complained. But he liked Michael, and respected him; in much the same way he had liked and respected Albus. Michael was happily unaware of this, because he tried to be almost scary towards his charges, but only he didn't know that all his charges liked him quite a bit more than he might have liked.

James sighed and flipped over, enjoying his new wings. He had always loved quidditch, and a broom was as free flying as most people got, but he had always wanted more somehow, and now he finally had them. His very own wings. Lily seemed quite happy with hers as well, when she wasn't complaining about Draco.

Draco Malfoy. Their charge, the recipient of their guarding attentions. From what James had seen of Draco's file, Draco was indeed his father's son. A complete and utter bastard. Cold and unfeeling, with hardly a scrap of remorse or decency in him. Lily was right. It was almost enough to make him despair, except he was going back to earth. Back to his son, and his best friends. Even if they wouldn't be able to see him without him wishing it, James was sure that being around them would be enough for them to tell him to show himself. Remus and Sirius weren't stupid, however often Sirius pretended to be, and they would feel and know the presence of the guardian angels.

Harry, however, would probably be a different matter. Both James and Lily could have cheerfully murdered off Petunia and Vernon, if it didn't go against everything angels stood for.

The one who he would get even with though, was Pettigrew. James had sworn that he would have Pettigrew's head. Or at least see his featureless face in Azkaban. Michael had agreed to the Azkaban plan, but not the murdering plan. He had said it wasn't fluffy or cute enough to be an angel's doing. 

James had almost damned the smirking head angel for that, but he wasn't as stupid as he pretended to be either.

Lily stopped complaining suddenly, and gave a girly squeal of delight. A girly squeal that James didn't tease because he respected her temper, and because he was too busy holding back a squeak of delight as well.

Hogwarts was just below them. They were finally home.

Harry looked up with a start, and not just because Ron was poking him viciously with his wand. The things were coming closer. He could feel it, and it alarmed him somewhat. They weren't supposed to come closer; they were supposed to stay safely away, away from him and his friends. They weren't allowed to come closer.

He stopped his half panic when Ron poked him again, and twisted in his seat to glare at Ron. 

Ron, blithely oblivious to the glare, just stood up. "Come on Harry, let's go. The period's over, at last. It's about time too." Ron took a closer look at Harry's pale face. "Are you all right? You don't look too good."

Harry, abruptly deciding that Ron didn't need to know, that he would be safer not knowing, shook his head negatively. "I'm fine. Just tired and bored." 

Ron gave him a searching look, but didn't say anything, and Harry packed up his stuff, aware that the things were watching him closely. 

Surprisingly, it felt oddly comforting now. The things were projecting feelings at him, feelings that felt good, feelings that almost felt like love. 

But it couldn't be that.

Draco knew instantly that he wasn't alone. He was sitting on his bed in his dorm, contemplating his toes. They were freak toes, he was sure. They did not suit the perfectionism that was the rest of his body. He idly wondered if they had been made like that on purpose.

He blamed it on his parents, refusing to make a distinction between the two. He wasn't happy with them just yet. It always took a while for Draco to forgive something. Who said grudges weren't the best things?

He looked up when he felt the things, feeling something inside of himself pull towards them, almost desperate to be recognized and acknowledged. He squashed it down viciously. Draco did not need to beg to be recognized. He did that all on his own, just by being in the same room with people.

People pointed out his silver blonde hair, his cool gray eyes and flawless features. No, Draco did not need to beg to be recognized.

"Who's there?" He mentally punched himself after the words slipped out. How cliched.

There was a dim muttering inside his head, as if some people were invading in his thoughts, and he glowered at the empty air around him.

"Show yourselves or I'll have you punished."

A peal of laughter did not improve his temper, and he stood up, prepared to get Professor Snape and complain that the ghosts, or whatever they were, were invading his thoughts.

As this was illegal without consent, he was positive that Snape could do something about it. He wasn't sure about the legal allowances made for ghosts, but he was sure that some people could think of something. It wasn't any of his concern beyond getting the ghosts to stop bothering him.

A shimmering of the air next to Vincent's bed made him switch his glare there immediately, only to be glaring at a pretty redhead, who was glaring viciously back. The fact that he could see she was a redhead gave him pause for a second, because ghosts weren't meant to have color in them. They could wear color, but not be in color.

Another shimmering near the wardrobe made him look there, where Harry Potter was looking around inside the drawers, an expression of extreme distaste on his face.

"I trust the contents of our cupboard is up to your standards, Potter." Draco spat out, the loathing plain for all to hear.

Potter looked up, but his eyes were brown and not green. Draco took a startled step backwards, taken aback by the presence.

"What are you?" he whispered, and then repeated, in a much more confident voice.

"We're your guardian angels." Lily Potter sounded as disgusted as she looked.

Draco looked outraged, and felt it too. "I don't need _you_ to be my guardian angels!"

James Potter looked slightly amused now, and he just sat down where he was, the air holding him up easily. "And we don't _want_ to be your guardian angels. But laws and orders are laws and orders, and there's no way to get around them I'm afraid. Trust me, we've tried."

Draco sat down heavily on his bed, resisting the urge to pout. He glared at them imperiously instead. "All right. Why do I need you?"

Lily almost immediately looked almost pitying. "I'm sorry. We can't tell you that, rules, you know. But you _will need us, if not yet then definitely within the next few months."_

Draco stomped venomously on the parts that wanted to sulk and the parts that were immediately half curious. It needn't concern him yet. 

"All right," he replied instead, the picture of calm reasonableness. "So what is it you actually do? Or plan to do?"

James gave a slight shrug, reclining back in the air. "We don't know yet. We just watch you and guide you and all that crap."

Draco eyed him incredulously. "So you stay with me every minute of every day until I no longer need you?"

James shrugged again. "Sort of. We will leave sometimes, you know how it is, places to go, people to see…"

Draco raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. "What about Potter?" he drawled out slowly, "Does he know you're here?"

"He suspects it," Lily answered quietly, "but he doesn't quite understand what he's feeling yet."

Draco smirked triumphantly. He had always suspected that potter was stupid, of course, but no one had believed him. No one but Potter's enemies, but Draco didn't care about them. He wanted to see Potter rejected by those he cared most about as well. "I always knew he was stupid."

The heated glare from Lily was back on at full force. "Don't you dare call my son stupid. He just doesn't know all there is to know about us. Not surprising, given my family, but still."

Draco held up his hands placatingly, an effect that was spoiled by the triumphant smirk on his face. "I knew Potter had it bad, but how could he not know?"

Lily gave him a dubious look. "Draco, he's a wizard raised by muggles. I'm sure he knows a lot of things about muggles that you don't. It's only natural he doesn't know some of the stuff you do."

Draco snorted. "I'm not sure I'd want to know anything about muggles, Potter."

James smiled slightly, apparently amused again by something Draco couldn't see. "Do you always call Harry 'Potter' as well?"

Draco looked at him suspiciously, unsure about where the question was leading. "Yea."

"Maybe you should start calling him 'Harry'."

Draco was incensed at the suggestion. "Why the hell would I want to do that?"

"Because if you keep calling him 'Potter', you're going to get the whole family mixed up." 

Draco stared at him blankly. 

"If you want to call one of us, what will you say?"

"Potter," Draco answered automatically, then blinked at himself, realizing what the problem was.

"You see?" James stood up again, a simple matter of putting his feet on the floor. "If you keep calling him 'Potter', we'll keep thinking you mean one of us, and we'll come when you don't want us to."

Draco stared at him, barely suppressing his horror at the idea. "Exactly how close are we tied together that if I say 'Potter' you can hear me?"

"We're only supposed to hear your voice," Lily answered, "but Michael granted us permission to hear whomever we chose to. But your voice will always be the loudest to us, even if you are whispering from the other side of the castle and someone else is screaming directly in our ear. Apparently we can also talk inside your head and you in ours, but we're not quite willing to try that just yet."

Draco was horrified. "I should hope so!"

James walked closer, not touching Draco, but almost close enough to. "We've given you a shock. Have a nap, Draco, never mind your next class. Sleep it off, maybe you'll feel better when you wake up."

"I sincerely doubt that," Draco muttered, but he obeyed the quiet order, which was just proof at how shaken he really was.

Lily looked down at the prone, pale blonde. "I still don't like him."

James gave her a look, and she shrugged guiltily. "I don't. Maybe in a few days I'll feel better about this, but right now, he's too snobby."

"You're right, as usual," James replied, grinning, and he shimmered out of sight before she could slap him.

She stared at him. "I can still see you, you know," she remarked blandly.

He grinned at her again. "I know. But if I'm like this, Harry can't yet, and I want to go see him."

Lily nodded happily, thoughts of Draco fading as she shimmered out of sight and followed her husband out of the dorm.

Draco waited until they were gone before smirking slightly to himself, and he sat up, prepared to roll out of bed and go wreck havoc, when his cruelly gleeful gaze caught sight of his still bare toes.

He was more sure than ever now that the Gods were punishing him, and the identities of his two guardian angels only confirmed the fact.

What was he going to do? 


	3. Sometimes It's Confusing

Title: Trick of Fate

Author: I_nv_u50

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Disclaimer: I wish they were.

Rating: PG13 'cause Draco's a jerk.

Summary: Harry depressed, and Lily is getting depressed just knowing he's upset. So, naturally, Lily and James go down to earth to try and cheer Harry up. How they do it comes as a surprise to everyone – themselves included.

Categories: Romance, Humor

Warnings: Slash, of the m/m variety. Mmmm… 

Author's Notes: 'Bout time. Hmph. Draco and Harry are sulking 'cause I won't get graphic enough for them. I try to keep my stories PG13… Then they go and complain about the other muses. Heh. Idiots. Anyway, this chapter sees… other stuff… O.o; some things get explained, etc etc… dunno when the next chapter's going to be out. I'll try for a month or so, unless inspiration suddenly hits (oh please do) … other than that, I hope you enjoy this one ^^

Please review!! ^^

James floated idly down the hallway, looking around in a kind of curious boredom. The stone corridors had not changed a bit since when he was last here, except a few of the paintings had been switched around. The paintings were watching the decidedly empty space where he and Lily were suspiciously, seeming to sense that something different was there, but not fully knowing what.

But then, it wasn't to be expected that these main corridors had changed; they were the most used, and it would be improper to have random bricks melt away when you were in a rush for class. The back hallways were rarely used, and had no such problem. The shapes and directions changed as easily as if a subtle wind had blown them into disorder, and James could fondly recall many nights with the other marauders exploring the shifting passages.

Lily shimmered into sight beside him, to the surprise of a painting, whose lady squawked and fell back a few steps.

"What's up Lil?" 

"Nothing… Just remembering."

James grinned and flickered into sight, going to stand next to her as she studied the painting. "Was this here a few years back?"

Lily gave him a Look. "No. It was in the Charms Corridor."

"Ah yes. And of course I would be expected to remember it there." James laughed and floated up to where she couldn't hit him, before gliding out of sight again. 

Lily followed his lead just in time, because someone was walking swiftly towards them, in quick strides that billowed his cloak around his heels.

James' breath caught, and Lily automatically gave him a glare, prohibiting him from tormenting the other man.

"Leave him, James. We still need to find Harry." Lily spoke decisively, hoping the topic would distract James long enough for him to temporarily forget about Severus. Obviously, the tactic wouldn't work for too long, but Lily was counting on his anticipation to help her out.

It worked. James shoved Severus to the back of his mind, decided that Severus shouldn't be allowed any more importance than that, and continued to drift along the passageway, in the vague direction of the Gryffindor common rooms.

Harry yawned, and tried to look interested as Hermione prattled on about something or other. He had started out mildly interested, but she had suddenly gone off on a tangent completely unrelated to the previous topic, and now he was just confused and bored. She possibly knew this, but ignored the fact; probably thinking it was in Harry's best interests that he know this. 

What 'this' was exactly, Harry truly had no clue.

Or rather, he preferred not to listen to the clues. It was beginning to toll on him, the tiring façade that he displayed now, and he was almost too exhausted to notice when Hermione stopped and indignantly called his name.

Currently, Harry was trying to place those feelings, or presences. He wasn't entirely sure which they were yet, but they were coming closer, and it was starting to weigh heavily on him. 

"Harry!"

Harry started out of his reverie. "What?"

"I've been calling your name for the last five minutes!"

Harry was sure Hermione was exaggerating, but he refrained pointing this out to her. "Sorry. I was just thinking about something…"

Hermione's expression immediately got concerned. "Are you all right? You haven't been sleeping too well lately, and you almost never eat at regular times."

Harry shrugged dismissively. "I'm fine. It'll just take a while to get adjusted."

"To what?" Now Hermione only sounded curious.

"To those beings around me, those things…" Harry trailed off, seeing Hermione's blank look, and it hit him suddenly. What he felt was not felt by all other wizards, like he had presumed. He smiled quickly, and before Hermione could get over her surprise and talk about it, Harry fled.

He had to think.

James found him. James could find anyone he wanted to in the castle, all it took was a few words of wisdom to a certain painting on the fifth floor, and a map, very similar to the Marauders' portable copy came up. After that, it was merely a question of James remembering the hallway's favorite changes to find their way to Harry.

Harry wasn't anyway that could be found without the map, so he was surprised and slightly troubled by the fact that the two things, _that no one else felt, were following him. He knew this as simply as he had known how to fly, utterly instinctive. He glanced up from studying the map and looked blankly into the air._

"What are you, and why are you following me?"

The space slightly to his left shimmered like the air was too hot, and he looked at it quickly, but the second he focused on it, the shimmering was gone, even though he could still feel the thing there. 

::Don't look directly at me…:: breathed a voice quietly, and Harry's heartbeat sped up as adrenaline surged through his limbs. Fight or flee?

Harry was understandably curious though, and since the presence of these things didn't feel particularly threatening, he looked straight ahead, ignoring the flickering air to his left.

Out of the corner of his eye, still desperately trying to avoid looking directly at the place, he saw a figure begin to emerge, one that looked strangely like himself, but far more insubstantial. There was also a lady's figure, although she was still quite hazy in appearance, but that didn't matter. Harry could guess who they were by the man's physical appearance alone.

He gaped at his parents.

Draco scowled and fidgeted, shifting his weight as he waited. Crabbe and Goyle had gone to go get him food, since the arrival of his… Draco wasn't sure what to call them yet. There were multiple things, he was sure, but he wanted to make sure they would hear him if he called them those particular names.

He sighed and started pacing, ignoring the hunger pangs that were beginning to make themselves felt in his stomach. Malfoys weren't supposed to be submitted to inferior mortal aches and pains, it was against the rules. Draco scowled at nothing. 

Stupid Potter, telling him to go to sleep and then actually expecting him to do it! Draco had considered it for maybe a half second, then decided against it. Just because they were his reluctant guardian angels (supposedly), it was still no reason for him to listen to them. He didn't have any problems, his life was going marvelously, except for the damn toes, and Draco was half willing to overlook that. After all, if you denied or ignored something's existence, it ceased to be.

Or so his mother said.

It was only a matter of time though, before curiosity started to overwhelm his indignation. If they had been sent for a reason, what was it? There had to be a logical explanation somewhere, because even Draco could see that they weren't happy about guarding him, and he rarely noticed other people's feelings. Not because he was unobservant, but because he cared so little. 

The real question was, he decided, were they reluctant to guard him because what they were guarding him from was so horrific? Or was it something completely different?

"So you see, that's why we're here." James finished off, glancing sideways at his son. Lily had taken to hovering around the two, wanting to get closer, but unsure about how Harry would take it. It was a big shock, to tell the truth. He even understood Harry's slightly tense set of his shoulders.

Harry blinked at him, his eyes still surprised and wary, cautiously dealing with people who were supposed to be dead. "So you're guardian angels," he repeated slowly. "And you're not here to protect me but someone who shall remain unnamed because its against the rules for anyone else to know…"

"That's right," Lily told him softly. "We asked to guard you, because there's not much Voldemort can do against angels, but Michael wouldn't let us."

"Michael?"

"He's one of the head angels…. Assigns us things to do and stuff. You're not supposed to know that technically…" Lily answered. 

"Oh…" Harry replied softly, obviously thinking  about something else. His tone had turned coaxing when he spoke again. "So you won't tell me who you're guarding? Not even a hint? The smallest little clue?"

James grinned proudly. "Nope. However, if you're really my son, you should find out by Christmas."

Harry searched his face silently, then gave a small smile. "Can I get help?"

Lily shook her head before James could answer. "No. Sorry Harry. Only we can tell people about us, you won't be able to speak about us unless we've already told the people."

"So who are you going to tell?" Harry asked curiously, filing away the information. "Anyone I know?"

James shared a look with his wife, then sighed. "I want to tell Moony and Padfoot," he started, "but Lily's not sure. We also want to tell Dumbledore, but he's going to try and persuade us to tell him who we're protecting, so that'll have to wait a while. Other than that, no one else knows…"

"Except him" Lily said shortly, scowling. 

Harry blinked at her, surprised. "Who? Me?"

"No, the boy we're protecting."

Harry's eyes widened behind the glasses. "So you're guarding a boy? What house is he in?"

James smirked and floated up until he was standing "Sorry. That's enough clues for one day. We'll give you some more later." He paused, and looked as if he were about to say something else, when a distracted wince flickered across his face, and he looked away towards the main part of the castle. Lily floated up as well and echoed his distracted expression. 

Harry stared at them, confused. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry Harry, we have to go. We'll be sure to see you again. Remember," Lily paused, and a tender look entered her eyes, so alike Harry's in colour and shape. "I know we haven't said it yet, but we love you. We accepted this job because of you…"

James nodded in agreement, sparing Harry a glance that was as loving as it was teasing. "We have to go. See you around, Harry."

The two grinned at him, and vanished. 

Harry sat there still, his face in an expression of both shock and somewhat disbelief. To hear those words… he ignored the burning in his eyes, because crying was something he didn't want to do. It demeaned the declaration somehow, made it far more emotional than it should have been.

He loved his parents, and he had always known that they had loved him as well… but they weren't alive anymore. It couldn't be so easy, it never would be as easy as it would have been if they had lived. He slid a hand through his hair and sighed. He would enjoy having his parents with him for the time they were, he would enjoy it more than words could possible describe. He'd love it, at the very least, having both parents around in ways that he had dreamed of since almost before he could remember. Those nights in the cupboard had seemed so much more comforting when he imagined what his parents had been like, in a bitter sweet kind of way.

He couldn't afford to get to close though. He still doubted that they'd be around forever. They weren't even protecting him. He knew they would if they could, but if the person they were supposed to be guarding was in danger at the same time, they'd have an obligation to fulfill. He understood that much at least.

He stood up, reminding himself not to get too dependent on their company. They wouldn't always be around, and they would always have a commitment to protect the one they had been assigned first. 

Draco scowled at the two, both of whom were staring blankly back at him. "Crabbe," he said coolly, trying to keep his temper. "What have I said about letting Pansy near me?"

Goyle stepped in with the answer. "You said not to let her near you."

"Right." Draco said, then gestured to the girl who was eyeing him spitefully from where she sat on his bed. "Then what is she doing here?"

Crabbe shrugged. "She said she had food for you."

Draco stared at him incredulously. "And you believed her?"

Crabbe shrugged again, at a loss for a reply. Draco sighed, then scowled again, directing it towards the girl on his bed. "Pansy, would you please get off my bed."

"No," Pansy said shortly. "You've been ignoring me lately and I have a right to know why."

"All right," Draco said amiably, suddenly smirking. He held up a hand to tick off the reasons, trying to ignore the Potters who were floating in the corner of his room and watching him with disbelieving expressions. He had called them on a whim, wanting to see if what they had said about their communication was true. It had been. They weren't pleased about being interrupted with their precious son for no good reason. 

"First of all," Draco continued, holding up one finger in exaggeration, "you're a slut. Second of all, I don't like you. Third of all, you have rotten taste in clothes. Fourth of all, you're boring. Fifth, I need a challenge now. Sixth, Blaise is better looking than you."

Pansy's face had crumpled into lines of despair and fury sometime between the first and second reason. "How dare you!" she gasped, sounding sort of breathless. 

Draco watched impassively as she ran from the room, her face scrunched into a furious mask that was probably all too real. He had dumped her before, but she was persistant enough to get them back together, even though he never treated her differently, whatever she claimed they were. 

Draco turned to his two henchmen. He briefly wondered what they would do if he outfitted them like henchmen, then thrust the hought out of his mind. He didn't want to imagine any male form in spandex, especially those two. "You can go."

They shuffled from the room chuckling stupidly over the scene they had just watched. Draco had no doubt about whose side they were on. They didn't like Pansy either, but whether it was because he didn't like her, or because they honestly felt that way, he wasn't sure. He couldn't bring himself to care either.

He sighed and sat down on his bed, staring at the two guardians who were still floating by his ceiling, an expression of intense dislike on his face.

They echoed it, although it wasn't so much dislike as it was too similar to disgust.

"That was cruel," James remarked offhandedly as he drifted down to hover a few feet above the floor. "Do you treat all potential girlfriends like that, or just the ones you know will come back?"

Draco scowled at him. "It's none of your business. You have to protect me from what's going to go wrong, not from people who won't hurt me."

Lily's face softened with pity or sympathy. Draco couldn't tell which, and as he hated both, he didn't really care. All that mattered was that it was directed at him. He opened his mouth to say something scathing, because disgust was far better than pity, but Lily spoke before he could.

"Are you so sure about that, Draco?"

He stared at her, blinked, and paled. "What do you mean?"

Lily exchanged glances with her husband, speaking glances that told how much they understood and loved each other. With a sigh, she turned back to face Draco.

"Are you really sure they won't hurt you if given the chance, Draco? You don't treat them at all nicely, and human nature has a way of turning on anyone they pretend to like." James' face darkened as Lily spoke, obviously remembering something. Lily continued, without looking away from the pale blonde. "It's usually people who are closest to you who betray you, Draco. My whole family, both living and dead, knows what it feels like to be betrayed by someone you trusted. Maybe you should start treating them better. Either that, or reevaluate your friendships. I'd suggest you make up with Pansy first."

As Draco's expression turned disbelieving, Lily shrugged. "Then again, it's up to you. We're only here to advise you and help you out of problems you get into by not listening to us. Do what you think is best." She shrugged, and vanished.

James stood up, actually walking on the ground for once, and he stopped in front of the Slytherin, bending down slightly until they were on eye level. "What my wife won't say, but I will, is that you shouldn't forget who rose up a few months ago, Malfoy. He manipulated one of my friends into betraying us, one of my closest friends. Would people who aren't as close to you allow themselves to be manipulated for the same reasons? Or would they do it purely for revenge? Treat them better Draco, all of them." James stood up straight and grinned down at the stunned blonde, his dark expression disappearing as if it had never been there. "After all, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And that girl, Pansy, she looked like she was very upset. You don't have to like her, but my suggestion is go apologise or something. Make her think about forgiving you."

With that last bit of advice, James disappeared as fast as his wife had.

Draco sat on his bed, still somewhat stunned, unable to believe the fact that his friends might turn on them, and disturbed in more ways than one by the idea that he wasn't all that close to his friends. He pushed the idea away, not liking the way it made him feel. He considered the idea of apologising to Pansy, and even though it tasted bitter on his tongue, he would make some overtures of peace. He couldn't, wouldn't believe that his friends would betray him, but if the guardians were right…

He didn't have a choice. 


End file.
